


The Woodland King Reborn

by KayleeArafinwiel



Series: Into The West - NaQua2020 & Beyond [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: Oropher, Reborn in the West, has been acclimating himself to Life in the palace of Olwë Lindaran. Eventually, he ventures out into Alqualondë itself, and has an adventure.
Relationships: Galathil/Galathil's Wife, Olwë/Olwë's Wife, Oropher/Oropher's Wife
Series: Into The West - NaQua2020 & Beyond [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021737
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. The Water Is Rising

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AfricanDaisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfricanDaisy/gifts).



Day 1: Write a story as the water is rising

'Beyond the song that came before, before the song that's still to come, a stillness comes, a stillness comes.' -Jason Webley, 'Still'

Something was wrong. He could feel it, as he strode through the palace with its floors of marble and swirling sea-glass. The earth-tremors had been disquieting enough, but this...

The bells were silent throughout the city, the softly tinkling chimes that normally accompanied each beautiful day stilled. The feeling of something wrong intensified. Ordinarily he would hear voices of vendors hawking their wares in the streets - such as they were - below, as canal-boats plied their way through the channels he would hear the chatter of townsfolk about their business. 

The city was silent. Then a bell clanged thrice, loudly enough to make him jump.

When he looked out the window, a startling sight met his eyes. The Sea had...gone. 

It had rolled back, leaving a stretch of bare seafloor that extended nearly beyond even keen Elven sight. There were Elves below, but only those needed to batten down and barricade what they could, as many hurried to higher ground.

Shivering with anticipation, he rushed to find his uncle.

The King was standing in the centre of the throne room when the prince entered, issuing orders calmly, and gestured for him to wait. When the last of his attendants had gone, he turned to his Reborn great-nephew and surveyed him intently. "Oropher. What ails you?"

"This," Oropher breathed, shuddering. "What is this?"

"A storm, of sorts," Olwë explained. "It comes, not often, but often enough. Lord Ulmo tells me it shall not be so great as the drowning of Númenor. We have time to prepare." His gaze softened. "Forgive me, Nephew. I had forgotten that you would not know. The water will rush into the city, but we of Alqualondë know how to defend our homes against this intrusion. The palace itself shall not be touched."  
  
Oropher nodded and allowed Olwë to embrace him, uncle and nephew watching together as the Sea rolled in. A mighty wave - harmless it seemed at first, but as it drew nearer they could see its true height, and as it rushed past the sea-wall it filled the canals, making the city tremble. Maiar and Elves together defended against the damaging wave as the water rose.

As Olwë had said, it did not come near the palace, but it came near enough for Oropher's discomfort. Too close. It stirred memories of the breaking of Beleriand, and Oropher pulled away, overcome.

"Shh, hinya." Olwë took his brother's great-grandson back into his embrace and kissed his brow. "I know. I know. But see, even now the water recedes. We will aid our people in rebuilding what was damaged when it has gone."

Oropher shuddered in Olwë's embrace and nodded.

"Yes, Uncle," he whispered. "I will help. I promise."


	2. In the King's Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the storm, Olwë enters his closet, to find an unexpected surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Elizabethan and Middle English, closet referred to a small private room, an inner sanctum within a much larger house, used for prayer, reading, or study.

The storm had passed. Olwë entered his private rooms once the clean-up had finally been seen to, and after bathing and dressing with as much haste as protocol allowed, entered his closet.

This small room was the King's alone; his private study, Oropher might have called it, though it was less formal than that. Olwë came here when he truly did not want to be disturbed, and only Lirillë, his wife, and Lindarion, his heir, might break that need for solace without repercussion.

Thus, when he entered the usually peaceful chamber to find his nephew curled under the table, he gave a start of surprise.

"Oropher! What are you doing here?" he asked, kneeling and drawing the younger ellon into his arms. 

Oropher clung to him and wept. "I...I was at the harbor, helping the captains tend to their ships," he gasped when he could finally get the words out, "and...an elleth came, looking to register her ship as secure. I thought she looked familiar, yet we had not met before, I do not know your captains, Uncle."

Olwë nodded, heart sinking. He should have anticipated this. "Go on, Nephew."

"She...she said her name was Eluthril. Eluthril Oropheriel." He covered his face, and Olwë hugged him closer, hushing Oropher gently.

"Did you tell her who you were?"

Oropher shook his head. "I helped her register her ship, then...left as soon as she did. I could not...I could not face her, I..."

"Shhh, hinya," Olwë soothed his great-nephew. "Quietly now, all is well and all shall be well. I have you."

Oropher rested his head on Olwë's shoulder. "I am sorry, Uncle. I should not have entered your closet without permission." He laughed reluctantly at Olwë's questioning look. "I seem to recall having many conversations with my son over similar infractions."

"Mmm." Olwë hummed a little. "Yes, but you are not your son, Nephew. Still, perhaps we had better discuss it."

Oropher stirred. That sounded...ominous. "Discuss how?"

"Nothing too terrible," Olwë lifted Oropher to his feet, standing with him, and they sat down at the small table. There were two chairs kept at Olwë's table, for he sometimes allowed the company of his wife or heir. He set the chairs up side by side, then went to the cupboard and returned with two glasses, pouring a chilled fruit juice from the pitcher on the sideboard. Wine would cloud his mind when he needed clarity.

Oropher took his seat, and once Olwë had done so, took a sip of the juice - apple, it was, with a touch of summer berries, and tears pricked his eyes.

"Tell me, Nephew," Olwë commanded gently.

"Apple is one of my son's favourites." Oropher's voice went distant. "I have no idea what my other children like or dislike, Uncle," he added quietly. "I have no idea where my other children even are, except Eluthril, now."

"Mmm. They chiefly reside with your parents, or oftentimes Felith's parents, when they are not off on their own business. Eluthril works for me, so she has made her home here in Alqualondë. Besides, she married my great-grandson."

Oropher blinked. "Did she?"

Olwë nodded. "He is named Falmaron. You have met my son Falmaron, but this is his namesake."

"Oh," Oropher said softly. "Are they happy? Do I have..." He paused, rubbing his temples at the thought he had begun to express.

Olwë chuckled. "They are very happy. No children have been added unto them as yet. The Sea is their calling, for now."

"Cold is the life of a Mariner's wife, they say," Oropher murmured, remembering.

"Do they? Do they indeed," Olwë mused, stroking Oropher's hair. "Well, whoever this mysterious 'they' may be, they have not met your daughter. Or Elwing, for that matter." His lips twitched slightly at Oropher's start.

"Elwing!"

"Indeed." Olwë nodded, but did not elaborate. He let Oropher think on that in silence, 


	3. On the Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oropher ventures out into the city of the Lindar, and has a welcome reunion on one of the many bridges in the Swanhaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> celmavenë = Canal boat  
> luntequen = Boat-elf. 
> 
> These elves transport the people of Alqualonde, and visitors to the city, as employees of the Lindarin Crown.

Day 5: Write a story inspired by (or from inside of) a famous painting (I chose _The Japanese Bridge_ by Monet)

Oropher left the great palace and entered Alqualondë alone. It was his first venture into the city ruled by his distant uncle without an escort, although he had no doubt Olwë was having him followed at a distance. It would be foolish not to.

A lone celmavenë, poled by an ellon and bearing two young ellith about their business, floated down the nearest canal. Oropher knew, of course, that he could get anywhere in the city faster by hailing one of the canal boats, but while he could, close to the palace, he preferred to walk.

His path led him over the great bridge leading into the palace, down a wooden walkway, and then to a second bridge into the royal park, walled against the Sea, where fresh water filled fountains, lily ponds and water gardens. Here, he paused.

Oropher closed his eyes, leaning on the bridge railing and breathing in the fragrance of fresh water and green that spoke of the shade trees sheltering this place, shutting out the salt tang and fish smell that covered districts nearer the shore.

"Atto?"

He jumped, hand flying to his waist for a sword that was not there, and gasped as his sudden spin brought him face to face with Eluthril again.

"If this is a bad time, I..."

Oropher dropped his gaze guiltily. "No. I beg your pardon, you startled me."

"Then it is I who beg your pardon, Atto," she replied softly. "I should have made my approach more obvious. So, you like the garden?" She smiled encouragingly at him. "I do, too. It is my favourite place to sketch and paint."

"Is it?" Oropher asked Eluthril, wondering. "I had no idea."

Eluthril nodded. "If you will let me stay, I would be happy to tell you more, and answer any questions you might have."

"I would like that...iel-nin," Oropher replied.

Eluthril smiled brilliantly. "I am so glad, Ada." 

Tears pricked Oropher's eyes as they stood on the bridge together, Eluthril's hand finding his. "I hardly know what to ask first," he admitted.

"Well, my earliest memory is Daernaneth Maerwen holding me on her lap, and..." 

Oropher listened raptly as Eluthril spun her tale.


	4. The Tour Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eluthril begins to show Oropher around Alqualonde, and they continue getting to know one another.

Day 7: Write a story about your first love

Oropher felt Eluthril curl into him as they sat on the bridge, looking over the gently rippling water. At last, they got down, and crossed the bridge, walking to a landing, indicated by two brightly striped poles.

A canal boat glided smoothly to a stop in front of them, and Eluthril helped Oropher to board. She addressed the elleth poling the boat. "I am Captain Eluthril, in the service of the Lindaran, and this is my atar, Prince Oropher, recently come to the city. Please give us the grand tour, but never mind the harbour, I will show him later." 

"Very good, Captain," the elleth agreed, and set off. As she pointed out the sights, Oropher looked about with great interest. Eventually, though, Oropher looked back at Eluthril.

She was trailing her fingers lightly in the blue water. "When I first came to Alqualonde, I knew I was home," she told him quietly. "My first love was maps and books, but combining it with the Sea was a natural choice." She gave him a searching look. "What was your first love, Ada?"

"Hmmm." The first elleth - the only elleth he had ever loved was Felith, at least in that sense, but he did not think that was what his daughter meant. "You say what, not who," he observed. "I think, however, I will say Vehiron."

"Your brother," Eluthril said softly. "Yes. That, I can understand."


	5. At the River Bank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oropher and Eluthril see a commotion at the banking house. Eluthril feels the need to intervene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similarities to a certain scene in a certain family favorite movie may not be entirely accidental.

As Oropher and Eluthril conversed, he also paid attention to the luntequenë pointing out the sights. The elleth poling their small boat through the city had to pause as they turned a corner into Lirillo Canal, for there was a crowd filling the bridge above, and she heard shouting. Anxiously, she pulled up smoothly before the landing fronting the lower door of the building, whose address was indicated by five clam shells above a leaping dolphin. The sign over the door showed a sack of coin in the centre of a stream, along with the tengwa tinco, meaning treasure.

The banking house, Oropher thought. "Is all well?" he inquired, as Eluthril's face fell. "Iel-nin?"

"We must ensure that Master Nyelletanor is well," Eluthril gasped, She handed the luntequenë a coin for her service, almost absently.

"Shall I wait here, Captain, or..." The elleth sounded concerned as Eluthril scrambled up and Oropher followed her, exiting the boat.

"No, no, Mistress. I will tell Uncle Olwë you have done well," Eluthril promised the luntequenë, and she nodded, 

Oropher hastily followed Eluthril into the banking house, unsure of what they would find, but on the bridge above, it sounded like a riot.

Oropher followed Eluthril swiftly into the bank, barely taking in their surroundings. He had an impression of white sandstone, glittering with sea-polished gems, and followed Eluthril up a sweeping staircase.

Near the top, as the shouting got louder, they came across two elflings huddled on the landing, clinging to each other, a little girl and boy that Oropher suspected were siblings. They shrank away from him, so Eluthril stepped forward and knelt. "Greetings, hinyar. What are you two doing here?"

"Are...are we going to be in trouble?" the boy whispered.

"Well, that depends, I expect. Have you been naughty?" Eluthril answered calmly.

The elflings shared a glance and shrugged. "I had copper pennies for the bird lady."

"The bird lady?" Oropher raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

"You know." The boy looked exasperated. "The Mariner's Lady. She can turn into a bird, birds follow her all the time. And when she comes here, she lets us feed her birds for a copper."

"Lady Elwing, Atto," Eluthril explained with a laugh. "She uses the coppers to buy more feed, I believe."

The little girl nodded hard. "But when Vórimo wanted to feed the birds, Atto said no. He gave 'Rimo's coppers to the bank master, and, erm..." 

"And..." Eluthril raised an eyebrow at Vórimo.

"It's like Ilvanye said," the young ellon replied. "Um. I might have yelled at him to give me my coppers back, and it made him mad and Atto mad, and other people were yelling and we ran."

Eluthril rolled her eyes. "Come, elflings. I promise, no one will harm you when you are with me and Prince Oropher," she said, offering her hands as she gave them a firm look.

The elflings straightened. "You're a prince?" Vórimo asked doubtfully. "You don't look like a prince."

"Oh? And what does a prince look like, then, young Master Vórimo?" Oropher asked, as Eluthril took the elflings' hands. He took Vórimo's other hand as they continued up the stairs, into the corridor. 

"Wearing robes and a big crown, I think. Like the King's except maybe not so big," the elfling hazarded. Oropher snorted softly to himself and kept the elfling talking as they walked. 

The crowd parted for Eluthril and Oropher, noticing their air of command, and they brought the elflings straight to Master Nyelletanor, who still had the elflings' father with him. 

"I believe there was a matter of lost coppers, Master Nyelletanor?" Eluthril asked.

"Hmm. I understood the elflings wished to open an account with us," Master Nyelletanor answered. Eluthril looked at the elflings' father.

"Master Hóreo," she said. "A pleasure to see you. I trust your elflings will not be punished for wishing to support the King's kinswoman...and mine."

Hóreo paled visibly. "Of course not, my lady."

"Then we can put this little matter behind us." Eluthril fished two coppers out of her own money pouch and handed one to each elfling. "Excuse me, Atto, I must calm the people." She left the elflings, Master Nyelletanor, and Hóreo with Oropher as she went to do just that.

Master Nyelletanor watched her go. "I wish I knew how she was able to do that," he murmured.

A proud smile flickered across Oropher's lips. "She is her mother's daughter, that is certain." Felith had that same way about her. Ah, but he missed his beloved so!


	6. On to the Hall (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the adventure at the bank, Oropher looks to Eluthril to see where they will go next. (11 sentences, 11 words per sentence)

Day 11: Write a story in 11 sentences (bonus if there are 11 words in each sentence)

After the adventure at the bank, Eluthril hailed another celmavenë outside. The luntequen guiding it was an ellon, smiling as they boarded. 

"Where shall I take you, Captain, and my prince?" he asked, bowing.

"We were touring the city when we saw the commotion, sir." Eluthril gave the ellon a slight nod, humming as she thought. "Take us to the Royal Hall of Singing, please," she decided. The ellon nodded, and sang as he poled the boat along.

"What is The Royal Hall of Singing, iel-nin?" Oropher asked.

"It is the oldest building in Alqualonde," Eluthril explained readily enough. "Even older than Uncle Olwë's palace, as a matter of fact. It was the first building completed by the Lindar who arrived. It is still used for meetings and communal events even today." 


	7. At the Royal Hall of Singing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Royal Hall of Singing, Oropher and Eluthril hear a tale, and Oropher discovers a cousin he has long missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://fablesofaesop.com/the-shepherd-and-the-sea.html#more-384 "The Shepherd and the Sea" is an Aesop's Fable.

Day 13: Write a story in the form of a fable

When the celmavenë glided to a stop at the Hall of Singing, Oropher took the time to be impressed by the structure. It was built of a mixture of wood and sandstone bricks, as were many of the buildings in Alqualonde, and while not so large as the palace it was quite grand. "The Lindar have much to be proud of," he murmured to Eluthril, who nodded. She tipped the luntequen the customary coin and led Oropher inside.

Within, the Hall of Singing was quite spartan, one even might think primitive, in decoration. There were no sculptures or tapestries here. The interior of the Hall was panelled in wood - birch, Oropher thought, primarily. Maps lined one wall, and in another, a group of Lindarin children were gathered. It was to these that Eluthril was drawn, and quietly Oropher followed her.

The elflings were seated cross-legged on thin cushions, surrounding their teacher (seated likewise.) The silver-haired elleth - whose features were maddeningly familiar - spared a glance for the newcomers, and smiled, but otherwise did not acknowledge them directly. "Lirillo," she said smoothly. "Would you fetch two cushions for our guests."

"Yes, Mistress!" The boy leaped to his feet. He was about fourteen, if Oropher was any judge, and looked strikingly like...well, like a small version of Galathil, as Oropher remembered his father's cousin. Lirillo dashed across the hall, ducked around the magistrates examining maps, and returned, his shoes skidding on the polished wooden floor in his exuberance.

"Here, Mistress," Lirillo announced, setting the mats down and bowing to the elleth before turning to Oropher and Eluthril with a beaming smile. "Be welcome to the Hall," he rattled off breathlessly. It was probably meant to be a formal greeting, Oropher thought, but with such a delivery it was merely amusing. Nevertheless, he nodded gravely. "I thank you for your greeting," he replied, as he and Eluthril seated themselves. She merely chuckled to herself.

"Forgive us for interrupting your lesson, Mistress Ninquelótë. I was merely showing Atto the sights, and thought we ought to stop here."

Ninquelótë...Nimloth? Oropher looked up, stunned, and his eyes widened as she returned his gaze with a wink. 

"It is well, Captain Eluthril. Be welcome, and to you,, thrice welcome, Prince Oropher. Now, what story did I say we would be hearing?" she addressed the elflings.

"The one about the mamandil and the Sea," Lirillo piped up.

"Oh, yes." Ninquelótë nodded. "Well, once, long ago before you or I yet lived, there was a mamandil of the Southern Fiefdoms. He was one of the Noldor, but envied the Lindar their ships. "Would that I could sail," he would lament every day to his sheep."

"Sheep don't talk," Lirillo said scornfully and the elleth seated next to him elbowed the boy.

"I did not say the sheep had anything to say about it," Ninquelótë laughed good-naturedly. "But anyway, the mamandil grew restless, and one day he came to the Lindar and begged them to teach him how to sail and give him a boat."

Oropher stiffened. Ninquelótë saw the reaction and divined its source. "Nay, Highness, not one of those Noldor," she added. "This is but a tale."

Oropher relaxed and nodded, abashed. "Forgive me, Mistress," he said. "Please continue."

Ninquelótë nodded. "The mamandil sold his sheep to the Lindar, and used the money to buy a ship. Since none would teach him, saying the time was not right for sailing, he endeavoured to teach himself, and in his first voyage past the Great Arch a storm battered his ship, sinking it."

"Did he die?" one of the ellith asked.

"I believe he was rescued," Ninquelótë said comfortingly. "But see, he lost everything. If he had listened to the Lindar who told him it was not the proper time, he would have kept his sheep, or at least his ship. At least he kept his life. But hear me, children; listen to those wiser than yourselves, and understand the perils of a thing before you attempt it."

"Yes, Mistress," the elflings chorused as one. Most of them got up when Ninquelótë dismissed them, but when she rose, Lirillo ran to her for a hug.

"It was a good story, Anammë. But I wish he had listened," Lirillo said dejectedly.

"Do you, inyo?" Ninquelótë pressed a kiss to the boy's brow. "I do, too."


	8. The White Flower's Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Nimloth finishes her tale, more of her family arrive, including two Oropher never thought to see. It seems Oropher's family tree is expanding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://b2mem.dreamwidth.org/289330.html "A Pantoum for Nimloth" is what I used to inspire this chapter. I couldn't really figure out how to "cut a story in half".

Day 15: Take a story you have already written and cut it in half.

When Nimloth released Lirillo, he let out a squeal of delight and ran across the Hall. Oropher turned, too, noticing the trio of ellyn who had just entered.

Two he did not recognise. One, he did, and he reeled slightly from the shock of it.

As if walking in a dream, he moved past the dark-haired, grey-eyed ellyn, like enough to be twins (as in fact they were), and to face the older ellon.

"Galathil."

His father's cousin quirked an amused smile, folding Oropher in his arms. "It is good to see you, elfling. Of course, I would have rather had you on that side of the Sea to be with your family, hmm? But since you must be here, at least you are no longer languishing in Mandos."

The twins exchanged disgruntled glances, grimacing. "Have you come from Mandos recently?" the elder twin asked. 

"Manners, elflings," Galathil chided.

"We're not--"

"Pereldar, then," he corrected himself.

Lirillo smirked as he clung to his father's leg. "Atya, Anatto told you off."

"Hush," was the absent reply, and Oropher watched the interplay, seemingly forgotten. Finally, the pieces fell into place. "Elurín. Eluréd."

The twins bowed, Eluréd gently trying to extract Lirillo as he did so. 

"Cousin Oropher," Eluréd murmured. "Welcome to Alqualondë. Lirillo, off please." Reluctantly, the boy let go. "Elflings," Eluréd muttered.

"Half-elflings," Lirillo replied with a cheeky grin. Eluréd rolled his eyes.

In the meantime, Nimloth had made her way over, exchanging kisses of greeting with her father and sons. "Ada, what brings you three here?" she inquired curiously. "I did not expect you at the Royal Hall of Singing today."

"Lisselindo, one of the journeyman bards," Galathil added more for Oropher's benefit than Nimloth's, "is to sing the Lay of the White Flower today at the Hall of Singing in Culuina District. I thought you would like to come."

Nimloth blushed. "Oh...thank you, Ada. I would be honoured." She kissed Oropher's cheek. "Thank you again for coming, Cousin. Do come and visit again," she entreated him, and Oropher nodded. The Lay of the White Flower had been Dior and Nimloth's wedding song, composed by Galathil himself, he recalled. No wonder Nimloth would be invited to hear it, though he could also understand her reticence.

He and Eluthril, however, had other things to see, as Eluthril determinedly tugged him away from their departing kin.


	9. A Meeting With Lisselindo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oropher and Eluthril catch up with Nimloth, Galathil, and the family in Cuiluina District, and meet the bard who sang Galathil's song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this one was a very old French short film, and I can't even remember what the name of it was but it was about robotics and figures that were a whirl of activity, one thing turning into another. It was so crazy busy it could've triggered one of my seizures, so I thought it best not to try and find the link again. I tried to give the impression of it by how busy it was in the Hall.

Eluthril and Oropher continued their tour, with the luntequen showing them the different districts - the musicians' district, the woodcarvers' district and many others, including, of course, the fishing district (with a promise to come back to the harbour later). When they reached Culuina Canal, Eluthril stopped the luntequen at the Hall of Singing where Galathil, Nimloth, and her sons had gone. She gave the ellon his tip and led Oropher inside. It was a hive of activity; they passed a harp player and a flautist playing a lively tune for a ring of elflings to dance to on one side, while on the other an ellon gave a lecture on astinwessi to students of star-lore. The whirl of varying activities going on in the crowded Hall nearly made Oropher dizzy, but Eluthril led him to a corner of the Hall which was quieter.

Journeyman Bard Lisselindo had finished his performance, but he was still there, as were Oropher's cousins. When Eluthril entered with Oropher, Lisselindo's face lit up.

"Aunt! You came!" The pale silver-haired ellon, who had tinges of gold in his locks, blushed under Oropher's regard. "I didn't think you'd come," he admitted.

Eluthril laughed. "Yes I came, of course. I'm sorry we missed your performance, Lisselindo. To be fair, I wasn't invited, and I've been showing my atto the sights since he was Returned to us."

Oropher blinked twice, looking from the ellon to Eluthril. "Aunt?" he inquired, that being the first thing he'd latched onto. "Is he Rivaleth's?"

"What? No," Eluthril laughed. "It's...a social convention, shall we say. I'm not sure you would have practiced it since Doriath, if even then, it might be an Amanian thing," she added. 

"Explain," Oropher prompted.

It was Lisselindo who did so, bowing to Oropher. "Princess Eluthril is the granddaughter of the Lindaran's great-nephew," he began, and Oropher nodded. "Well, my great-grandsire is the Lindaran's grandson," he explained. "So we are of the same social rank, but slightly differing generations." 

Oropher nodded thoughtfully. "I see. And what would you call me, then?"

"Uncle," Lisselindo said promptly, "for I think you might take offence at 'Anatar'." 

"Hmm." Oropher smiled slightly. "Very well then...Nephew. And who is this grandson of Olwe who is your anatar?"

"Findaráto," Lisselindo said promptly.

Oropher's eyes widened.


	10. The Bird-Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisselindo accompanies Oropher and Eluthril to the plaza to watch the bird-master (Lord Ravondir) display his birds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't quite manage to set something in SA 1980's, other than the fact that Ravondir's grandson, who his bird is named after, was born then.

Day 19: Write a story set in the 1980s (SA?)

Lisselindo left the Hall of Singing on Cuiluina Canal with Eluthril and Oropher. "For," he suggested, "we should go see the display the bird-master will show in the plaza."

"Bird-master?" Oropher inquired, brow creasing, as he climbed into the boat.

Lisselindo nodded as Eluthril told the luntequen where to go, and the elleth poled away. "Yes, Uncle," Lisselindo confirmed. "The bird-master is a healer and trainer of birds, and our chief ambassador to the Minyai...I mean, the Vanyar," he corrected himself with a grimace. "Anatto wants me to be sure and speak properly in front of those who are not Lindar."

Oropher had noticed that the Lindar did use some more archaic turns of phrase than he had heard in Quenya otherwise, but hadn't bothered to question it. "I am sure it does not matter, Lisselindo. Tell us more of this bird-master of yours."

"He is a Reborn, with four children, though not all dwell with him," Lisselindo said. "He also has many grandchildren to speak of, some born before his death and some after. One of the most recent to be born in the Outer Lands was in the year 1988 of the Second Age." 

Oropher raised an eyebrow at this. "Hmm..." he mused. 

Lisselindo smiled as the canal boat travelled down Salmar Canal to the plaza. They exited the boat, strolling from the landing across the flat stone pavement of the market square, connected to the rest of Alqualonde by bridges. The plaza was bustling with activity today, as shopkeepers (who dwelt on the upper levels) called their wares; the benches shaded by sea-loving trees were all occupied, and in the centre of the square was an ellon demonstrating the handling of a fish hawk to a gaggle of interested youngsters.

Lisselindo and Eluthril drew closer, Oropher caught between them.

"His name is Lúcëarmo, for see you how he enchants with his gaze," the ellon was saying in Quenya, but Oropher stirred in shock.

Luthavar. He stared at the ellon as they came up behind him, and met hazel eyes which widened in shock at the sight of him.

"Oropher." To his credit, the ellon's voice did not shake as he swiftly regained control of the hawk.

Breathing hard, Oropher stepped forward and bowed to his great-grandfather. "Daeradar Ravondir."


End file.
